Hit Me With Your Best Shot
by debatablywonderful
Summary: Aoife would kill for a place on the Hogwarts Quidditch team. What’s stopping her? One time honoured code and a certain, obnoxious peroxide blonde. . . DracoOC
1. One

_Disclaimer: All rights etc. go to J. K. Rowling for creating the Harry Potter world and needless to say, the devilishly handsome Draco Malfoy with his snide remarks and girlish screams. Because hoestly, how could we get through the films without him being there to juice up the script? ;P_

And, apart from getting that out of the road, I have nothing else to say except....**let's get on with the show!**

* * *

The rain beat against the window, the tumbling expanses of fields beyond in the distance little more than blurry clumps of green through the water studded glass. The rhythmical lull of the rain pattering against the train pulled at my eyelids, Annie's excited shrieks the only reason how I managed to keep from falling into the abyss of sleep.

And the occasional snore that would grunt itself passed the ever-classy, Pansy Parkinson's lips.

"Holy Cricket! -she _didn't_!" Annie cried, throwing a hand against her chest, eyes boasting shock behind her red, jewel studded - and lens free - cat eye spectacles. Bless her and her Rita Skeeter obsession.

"I'm telling you, she did. And at it like a pair of garden gnomes too if you don't mind," Daphne Greengrass added with a dignified expression, nose held high and mouth sculpted into a disapproving frown.

I blinked and turned to fix her with a look. "Did you just say?-"

"Ooooooh! I can imagine it all ready can't you Daphne darling?" Annie spluttered cutting my question short and looking at the red headed Slytherin with the deepest of earnest. "First page news no less of course - Millicent Bullstrode - femme fatale after all? Vincent Crabbe, The Hogwarts new Don Juan? Or no!" Her hands flew out from her body in a rush of excitement. I snorted as she karate-chopped Greengrass in the forehead.

"I have it! . . .oh sorry darling - the X-Rated Happenings of the Broom Cupboard: Draco Malfoy, watch out! There's a new Don Juan about!"

". . .,"

"Yes, yes, fabulous I think for first inspirations," Annie spoke to nobody in particular as she whipped out her little black book with a deft flick of her hand and began to mutter hurried words to her quill, which began to dart across the parchment with it's seemingly own accord.

Anastasia Clementine, the blond, big haired twit muttering to herself (and who also happened to be my best friend) usually engaged in such peculiarities. She was an aspiring journalist, editor of the successful Slytherin Gazette (reading numbers had went up from two people to three in the past month - though regarding a ferret as a probable 'reader' might've been a bit generous of me) and so was often struck with sudden ideas that just needed to be put down on paper. Or at least, that was what she had said after Professor Hagrid had confronted her about her letting go of the Blast Ended Skrewt, Tobi's, leash in Care of Magical Creatures and letting it sludge after Neville Longbottom for the whole period whilst she preached heatedly to her notebook about Marcus Flint's socks (though apparently they _had_ been lilac and sporting the most unusual stitching of house elves in tutus).

Parkinson let out a grunt beside me and shifted on the seat. I eyed her warily as her head drew nearer to my body and my eyes widened, panicking, as I discerned her intentions. Oh, like hell am I gonna let her drool all over me!

Back pushed as far into the wall as was humanly possible, I felt extremely cornered. My eyes fleeted over to the Annie, but she was completely unbeknownst to my impending situation spouting Merlin knows what and Greengrass was scourging her nails with a moody, crumpled faced expression - not that she would've helped me if she'd have noticed.

I looked back at the approaching head, saw clearly the sausage lipped trap wide enough to catch flies, the pool of drool collecting at the corner of the girl's mouth. My chin pulled back in disgust. Merlin was that unattractive.

But then suddenly, with the swish of the compartment door, my focus was stolen. And the object of my distraction was not anymore welcome than the drooling pug's advances.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?"

My lip performed a curl, a customary reaction of mine when I looked at hideous things (that and Parkinson had finally found my shoulder). That voice, a drawl thickened with it's sense of superiority and fresh depth, crawled along my skin like the hairy legs of a spider, each little black hair sprouting from the spindly limbs tending to each of my nerve-endings.

He had grown taller over the summer, finally hitting - maybe surpassing - the six foot mark, the dark cloth of his trousers fitting snugly around the swell of muscles tightening his long, lean legs. The grey jumper he wore hid the crisp white of his shirt, but with the nub of his green tie loosened and the top buttons of his shirt left unbuttoned, a pale chest peaked out, a glimpse of which told of many long, hard nights spent playing Quidditch. His face, moulded with sharp lines and edges, was coloured an unearthly white as though the sun never grasped the opportunity to kiss it and marred by that damn, dratted smirk.

Not that I was looking or anything.

"Oh, Draco. . ." Greengrass purred with a flutter of her eyelashes, finally diverted from her manicure. "What a pleasant surprise."

I snorted, and it grunted throughout the compartment earning me the attention of two pairs of eyes. Oops, that was louder than I'd intended.

"I see you're still as feminine as always Winterbourne," Malfoy said, turning to me. "Overlooking the whole," his fingers fluttered above his top lip. "Moustache thing of course."

I glared, clenching my hand and ignoring the tingle in my fingers as they tried to jump up to hide my top lip from further Malfoy scrutinising.

"Hilarious. Now, what do you want trollface?"

Despite the insult, (though it was pretty tame - okay pathetic) he smirked and took his time in answering, relaxing his shoulder into the door frame and crossing one foot over the other, digging the butt of his shoe into the floor. His eyes swallowed the fact that Pansy was drooling spittle over my shoulder with a malevolent glint, the corner of his thin lips pulling upwards. He straightened the front of his jumper, adjusting it apparently and I caught, as I rolled my eyes, from under the emblem of the Slytherin serpent, a glint of green. A badge.

My stomach dropped when my eyes unearthed the large 'C' imprinted on it in silver.

The Slytherin Quidditch Captain badge.

Malfoy caught my line of sight and smirked. I had found exactly what I was supposed to. "You like it Winterbourne?" he asked, looking down at the badge. "Arrived just two days ago - mother and father were so proud. Apparently I was the best to apply, but I suppose. . ." he smirked if possible, more pompously than before, and lifted a hand towards himself. "You can't argue with perfection."

His words were but a jumbled blur to my ears. All I could focus on was the badge attached to his jumper, the badge that by right, should've been mine. He…_he _had gotten the position? But, but…why on Earth would they choose him? My mind glanced back to the morning two weeks past when I had received my Hogwarts letter. The disheartening tug at discovering it to be an empty envelope, crawled up my throat like an recurring vomit.

". . .Get anything yourself?"

His words were sly and as slippery as a snake's skin, innocent sounding to somebody who knew no better. But I did. And the mockery in his tone and eyes fed my anger and frustration to the extent that my fingers burned against the bed of my palm, caged by my lessening resolve to avoid an angry outburst.

Why did he get it?

Why does he _always_ get it?

Annie, who had finally noticed the compartment's new arrival, stopped her muttering and shot me a concerned glance. I barely noticed.

"Hmm. . .I'll take that as a no then," he drawled. I could hear the jeer riddled through his words and clenched my fist harder.

"But yes, now that I think about it, I'm sure mother mentioned that you had applied for captain. . ." He had the indecency to appear as though he were thinking. "Oh well, nobody will think ill of you I suppose. You were up against me after all."

My fingers were really beginning to hurt now. Oh Merlin, _please_, erase this rodent from my life.

"But, you never know," he continued, leaning forward with something akin to excitement glittering in his eyes, "if you play your cards right I could always make you mascot."

I surged to my feet, sending the snoring Pansy flying into the other wall and set narrowed eyes upon his openly mocking set. My clenched fist was trembling in Annie's fingers as she latched onto it. "I'll tell you where you can shove your offer you stupid blonde -"

"Draco baby?"

I stalled, hearing the breathless whisper. Was that -? I swung round and found the dark haired girl lying askew on the couch, blinking up at Malfoy with a dazed expression. It really did seem that she had clouds of love hearts circling around her head. I looked back at Malfoy, who was no longer oozing as much cool as he had two seconds ago and shot him a delighted smile. Strangely enough, he didn't reciprocate.

The pug jumped to her feet, pushing me aside as she did so and threw out her arms ready to embrace the blonde leaning against the door. "DRACO BABY! IT _IS_ YOU!" Malfoy's eyes bulged as the girl ran for him, and with a squeak dived promptly to the ground. I sniggered as he sprung right back up - on the opposite side of the room mind you - cheeks a beacon of pink and one hand shooting to his shirt collar to fluff it up, the other darting through his shock of blonde hair.

"Draco, are you alright?" Greengrass asked, leaning forward, eyes wide in the fear that the self-pronounced Slytherin god had hurt his precious jewels. Whereas, people with a bit of milk in their coconut (I honoured myself to be in that category) were wetting their little panties with laughing.

"You didn't see that," he hurried, smoothing down his robes now with a wild look in his eye. "Understood?"

"Draco baby? Where'd you go?" Pansy blundered back into the room, for the momentum of her run had carried her straight on into the corridor outside and her avid eyes locked on Malfoy. She grinned. "Shnookums, there you are!"

Malfoy shivered, face pulling in disgust. Guess he didn't appreciate the pet name. Pansy's mouth opened to gush out more pathetic and undignified words I suspected, but she was cut over by yet another person.

How many more were to come?!

"Malfoy." I looked up at the deep grunt. There standing by Twit Senior's side stood Vincent Crabbe, Malfoy's bodyguard/lackey/Twit Junior I.

"Oh well if it wasn't the hormonal caveman," I greeted with a smile. Crabbe's face reddened and he shuffled closer to Malfoy. It was only then that I noticed the ball of fluff nestled in his arms.

"P.P!" I cried, leaping forward and snatching him from Crabbe into my arms. "I was wondering where you got to!" I gave him a quick once-over, checking for injury. Malfoy was very much known to dislike my one-eyed tabby cat, Prince Peregrine because of the small matter of finding a one week overdue Transfiguration homework covered in muddy cat prints. Stupid git shouldn't have left it out in the first place I'd argued to Professor Snape that night after the nitwit had went to the Head of House to try and get the tabby evicted, only to receive the biggest death glare imaginable courtesy of Mr. Malfoy.

I swear on Merlin, if I hadn't been wearing my fluffy yellow dressing gown and dragon pompom slippers, I would have frozen from the chill of his gaze.

""Yes, _P.P_,"" Malfoy snarled, lip curling contemptuously. "That bloody cat nearly clawed my leg off I'll have you know. If my father wasn't so busy with the Ministry, then I can assure you that he would be receiving an owl from me about that dratted beast!" I rolled my eyes and snuggled back into the seat with Prince Peregrine purring against my chest. I'd have to remember to give him a few extra treats later for being such a defensive, anti-Malfoy little kitten.

"Malfoy, you're being a drama queen. P.P can't even scar!"

"Better bloody not!" Malfoy exclaimed, lifting his trouser leg to show a fine set of red scratches, some deeper than others carved into his muscled calf. There was a sharp intake of breath from Pansy and Daphne (Anastasia was too preoccupied with the pumpkin pasty she had found in the pile of sweets by my side - it had to be said, she was a sucker for a pasty), both at the cobweb of cuts but more I suspected at having a glimpse of muscle - bunched skin. And not just any muscle - bunched skin, but '_Draco Malfoy's!_'

"Got to have this body in tip top condition for the ladies," he added with a smirk leaning backwards against the doorframe again and crossing his arms. He too, had noticed the girl's excitement.

I barfed internally. "Oh yes. Can't have Crabbe here taking your title of man - whore now can we?" I said. His eyes flashed.

"Why you -"

"Malfoy." A big, burly boy with hair cut so short it was like a shadow across his head appeared by the tall Slytherin's shoulder. Malfoy's voice was nothing short of snippy as he addressed his second disciple, Goyle aka. Twit II. "What?"

"The littluns got away. . ."

"Oh for Merlin's sake. Are you that incompetent? They were tiny! Even Pansy here could've bested them!" I looked over to the black haired girl. Her chest was swelling with pride. . .or, at least I hoped it was pride and _not_ her showcasing those mosquito bites of hers.

Goyle looked crestfallen, much like a dog in trouble would put its tail between its legs and whimper until its owner petted it again. "So am I correct in assuming that you didn't get the food then?" The boy shook his head. Malfoy sighed dramatically. "Fine, fine. . ." His eyes flickered to the small pile of sweets by my side. "I believe we already have a stash anyway." I caught onto his train of thought very quickly.

"Oh no you don't!" I cried, springing forward to sling a protective arm around the pile. Prince Peregrine sprang from my chest onto Pansy Parkinson's. I'm not too sure who was more disgusted: Pansy or the tabby. "Now, now Winterbourne. Sharing is only polite."

I laughed pleasantly. "Yeah, you would know about that wouldn't you," I said cheerfully, tilting my head to the side. "I mean, you share your bed with. . .how many is it now?" Malfoy smirked, waggling a finger at me.

"A true gentleman never tells."

I rolled my eyes. Prat. The infamous smirk curled, if possible, even more when he realised I wouldn't retaliate. I hated it when that happened.

Outside in the corridor, a tinny female voice sounded: 'Is it on?! Is it on?!" and at the bellow of the driver's "For last bloody time, yes!" continued, "Now, students you will be arriving at Hogsmeade station in a few minutes time. Please, start preparing for your departure."

Malfoy looked over his shoulder into the corridor then turned back to me with a wolfish grin.

"Well, it really has been a pleasure ladies - oh, and you too Winterbourne - but I really must be off. I forgot to mention it but there is a delightful specimen of a girl waiting for me a few carriages down and well, I hate to disappoint."

He turned to leave, shooing for Crabbe and Goyle to follow when, just as he was nearly out the door he rushed back in hand stretched ready to snatch a handful of my sweets. Idiot. Prince Peregrine - he was a slightly unstable kitten it had to be said (Merlin bless him) - pounced from Pansy's arms with a hysterical screech, his one eye shooting around wildly, claws full out and ready to embed themselves into some juicy Malfoy flesh. Malfoy blanched.

A second later, and _poof!_ He was gone.

. . .damn, I love my kitty.


	2. Two

Um...do I have to do that whole disclaimer thing again? Well, okay, but I think it goes without saying that I DON'T own Harry Potter, his world, or, *throws hand against forehead, overcome with the injustice of the situation* Draco Malfoy. I'm up for any negotiations though if your interested J.K.

*EDITED!*

* * *

"Malfoy, Annie. _Malfoy_," I hissed, yanking at my tie hard because it bloody well refused to knot.

"I know darling," Annie said soothingly which just managed to irritate me further. "But y'know, this might be a good thing. It would put you in your mother's good books for one, and as Rita says-" she caught my look. "Well naturally, it's not a good thing that _he _got the position, the big, fat orangutan," she hastened to add. "I merely meant that it might've been…well…oh, sod it. Cuddle?"

I growled. She promptly dropped her arms.

We were walking down the train's narrow corridor, and the loud swell of chatter and sense of confinement wasn't helping my mood. Plus, if the Hufflepuff kid behind me didn't stop snivelling and crying that he wanted his mum, I was going to set P.P on him. And then my mind would just go and flash back to all the times I'd done the same thing to Mr. Blonde Bimbo, and I'd be at square one again: seething through my teeth and trying to wrap my head around the fact that he was captain.

Had Snape had a few two many Firewhisky's or something? How could he honestly be stupid enough to think that that piece of pig slime deserved it? I mean, okay, Malfoy might appear the more likely candidate because he had been seeker last year where Ihad only been a beater sub, but I was _passionate _about the sport, surely Snape had to have noticed that? Had it been Malfoy attending every single practice and putting in extra whenever he possibly could? No sir! He was more preoccupied with bragging to his wannabe conquests (ie. Pug face) about the 'dangers' of flying, and rolling up his shirt sleeve to display his only scar which he had acquired, apparently, from a game of rough housing with a bludger. A bludger! It takes a certain kind of prat to expect people to believe that! (So okay, people did but that's besides the point).

We walked on in silence for a few more minutes though my thoughts were far from tranquil, most of them involving Malfoy screaming like the little girl he was as I hit him and his stinking Captain badge repeatedly with a bludger - show him what a real scar would look like! Stupid, irritating, snobby, little big nosed - !

"Aoife, I know you think it's the end of the world.." Annie suddenly said, reminding me an awful lot of my mum on the days when she'd take me aside and try to patronize me into wearing a dress. I eyed her critically from the corner of my eye. Oh, yeah, she was spending far too much with her. She was even adopting the Look. "But you have to think realistically here. After all, you'll still be able to try out won't you?"

It was only as I was snorting, mid eye-roll that the sickle dropped. Try out? It took my mind a few seconds to process the words, to fuse a connection to their meaning. Then, all too suddenly, my body froze, my stomach plunging to the depths of my abdomen. I didn't seem to be breathing enough.

I hadn't even thought about that. How could I not have even thought about that?!

With Malfoy as captain, how was I going to get on the team? He would _never _let me on!

And if I can't even get on my house team, how am I supposed to play professionally? Nobody would even consider a reject like that!

Holy cricket, this can't be happening.

"Darling, are you okay…?" Annie's eyes, wide with concern, began to blur from my view.

I could see my family's faces as I'd tell them the news. Mum would be delighted naturally. She didn't exactly keep it to herself that she hated my interest in the game, it being far too unladylike and hindering my chances of finding an eligible future husband. Dad would…well, I wasn't quite sure what dad would do. Gramps would do what he always did, stay quiet and leave the talking to gran. After all, Oda Winterbourne was not one to keep her opinions bottled. 'Stop playing Quidditch?' I could see her screeching. 'Because of a _boy_? By George girl, get your act together! You're a Winterbourne, for flips sake not some blubbering Longbottom fool! Now get back out there before I hex your bottom raw, and if that blonde gives you anymore grief, I'll do the same to him!"

And then I thought of Malfoy…his thin lips stretched into a delighted smirk, those cool eyes of his glinting with mirth at my misfortune.

Was I really going to let him win in his little twisted game? Just stand aside as he snatched everything I've everything worked hard for without so much as a fight? Suddenly a burst of warmth exploded through my body, starting from the pit of my stomach and flushing outward, singeing my veins, toes, sides, with fervent burning.

How, in the name of all things Merlinesque, could I call myself a true Quidditch player if I was going to fall at the first hurdle? Of _course _I wasn't going to let Malfoy win! Of _course _I was going to get on the team!

"Y'know what Annie, you're right," I declared, pulling my uncooperative tie from my neck in one single tug and walking to the doors that led onto Hogsmeade's platform. Not even the wind's biting chill could dampen my spirits now. "I've got nothing to worry about." And with renewed vigour, I sprung off the train.

"No! Aoife, watch the -!"

"Aw, _bugger_!"

"…puddle."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, we trudged into the Great Hall, thoroughly wet and cold and grumbling (at least, on Annie's part) about how horrible Scotland was and delicately naming each and every witch, wizard and dog that lived in it 'Merlin raving mad' and 'bloody bonkers'.

Students were still settling down at their tables when we eventually reached our own, though I guessed it wouldn't be too long until McGonagall, my severe faced Transfiguration teacher, marched in with all the first years. I breathed an audible sigh of relief when my steadily defrosting arse hit the wood of the bench and I could finally relax in the warmth the flames from the lanterns and floating candles threw off. At least, that's what I'd thought until some misguided twit decided to interrupt.

"My, my Winterbourne, looking a tad soggy aren't we?" I stiffened and I felt my muscles tense. Oh Merlin, you have _got _to be kidding me.

But no, he wasn't because there, not two seats from me, sat Ferret Features himself, smirk, girlfriend of ten minutes and henchmen completing the insufferable package. My jaw tightened and, with a lot of effort, I managed to grind out a reply.

"Well Malfoy, it does happen to be raining," I said, straightening my back and flexing my fingers underneath the table, trying to school my features into a picture of calm. Pretty hard when he was wearing that bloody stupid smirk of his and looked so relaxed and _dry_, whilst I battled to look just as dignified with dribbling hair, a dribbling nose and robes drowned in rain water that now, when I thought about, were beginning to itch up a storm in places where I guessed it would be described as 'socially unacceptable' to itch in a public place. "Though I suppose, what with all two of your brain cells, you wouldn't notice." I smiled brightly, positively delighted with my sudden sharp wit.

His grin however survived the verbal bashing. _Bugger _it. "Yes, well apparently Winterbourne, brains aren't everything." He rolled his shoulder just for good measure, so I caught the glint of his badge. My eyes flashed. My fists curled. Dirty rotten swine.

Now I really wished I'd mastered that pig snout spell in Transfiguration last year…

"Oh, why don't you just go and stuff your head down a toilet?" I seethed, the peaceful arrangement of my features flickering from my face into a teeth baring glare.

"Ooh, not very friendly…" he smirked, and his cronies, trained as good as they were, grinned beside him. I narrowed my eyes at them all, and gathering all my strength turned my head the other way, though not in time to ignore Malfoy's, "Besides lets not be stupid. Who would want to stuff a face as fine as mine down a toilet?"

I wonder…

The sorting took too long to finish and by the time it had, I was ready to swallow somebody's head. Fortunately, it didn't quite come to that (though I had already started to picture an apple in many a people's mouths by then) and with a brief, 'tuck in' from Dumbledore, I tore into my meal.

"_Oh go on_. Go on, go on, go on, go on!" I teased, waving the delicious pastry smothered in chocolate and cream in between Annie's eyes. Crossing her eyes, Annie watched the cake with heated eyes, following every twitch my hovering hand made, jerking the éclair from side to side. I was pretty sure I'd cracked her - there was definite displays of salivation going on in the mouth region - when she ripped her gaze from the sweet and clenched her eyes shut.

"I can't Aoife! I have - I have to stick to my resolution!" she insisted. I groaned and let my hand drop. Ever since reading in a _'Me, Myself and I' _article that muggle resolutions were the 'in' thing, Annie had been doing it and had decided that for hers, she would be eating healthier. The night following this pledge, she ended up ransacking some poor house elf for a strawberry tart. But apparently, "that didn't count".

"Huh." I waited a moment, shrugged and stuffed the cake in my mouth. No point letting a good cake go to waste. Annie watched with wide, lustful eyes and even I couldn't miss the sour expression she threw the lonely pear sitting on her plate. I'd give it a few evenings - tops - before she spontaneously combusts and eats whatever's closest to her (hopefully Pansy Parkinson's head). But, until that moment arrived, me and the 10 packets of Pumpkin Pasties at the bottom of my trunk would just have to wait.

Soon dinner was over and once again, Dumbledore took his place on the golden owl podium at the front of the hall, reaching his hands up into the air as he ordered for quiet.

"Students, your attention please!" he called, breaking through the final small conversations humming through the hall. I flickered a glance his way before folding my arms on the table and nestling my chin on them. Dumbledore's start of term speeches were never entirely exciting.

"So, now that we are all fed and watered, I'd like to call to your attention to the following notices. Once again, Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has kindly reminded me to repeat that all merchandise from Zonko's joke shop is prohibited from school grounds, particularly fizzing whizbees and dung bombs. For the full list of banned items, I suggest you go to Mr. Filch's office. I'm sure he would only be too happy to show you the way."

The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched.

A yawn escaped from my mouth. I snuggled further into my arms, only half listening as he spoke again, whittling down the list of notices which were the usual 'Hogsmeade is banned to students under third year' and the whole 'stay out of the Forbidden forest or you will die' thing. Like I says, boring stuff.

"…it is also my profoundest regrets to have to inform you that this year, there will be no inter house Quidditch being played."

"You're _what_?" I screamed, my cry blending with similar outbursts from all over the hall. I jumped to my feet. "Has he flipped?" I asked Annie before turning around and shaking my head. "He's gotta have flipped."

Dumbledore continued, his voice a little more raised than usual as he tried to battle over the cries of 300 appalled students. "This - " his voice rose louder still. "_This _is due to an event that Hogwarts will be participating in from the beginning of next year and which will require much attention from your professors…" Annie tugged at my sleeve and I sat down slowly, buried in a state of comatose.

"However, I wouldn't fret too much because there will still be Quidditch, if not more, at some point in the school year." My brow furrowed. How could we more Quidditch when there was none at all?

"Students, I am very delighted to tell you that this year, Hogwarts will indeed be participating in the Quidditch League!" I very nearly fell off my seat. "_What_?!" I shrieked, clutching the edge of the table with my hands as I pulled myself back onto the chair.

"Holy Jamalama's!" a boy, not six seats from me, cried obviously not noticing that when he had thrown his hands down onto the table, they had landed right into the remains of his mashed potatoes.

"Quite, Mr. Nelson," Dumbledore smiled, looking over his half moon spectacles at the boy, who promptly flushed at the headmaster's attention and attempted to slide under the table.

By my side, Annie was frowning. "What the devil is the 'Quidditch League'?" I ignored her.

Oh come on, get on with it! I jumped to my feet again and watched as Dumbledore moved his attention to a young boy from Gryffindor. What the bloody hell was he doing?

"Oh for Merlin's sake Aoife, sit down. He's not going to run away you know." I blinked, shooting Annie a glance. She was looking grumpy. Reluctantly, I sat back down, my attention still rooted to Dumbledore.

What was taking him so long? Why won't he just tell people to shut up!?

But of course, Dumbledore would do no such thing.

Dumbledore waited as Dumbledore would, a pleased smile on his face. Frustration itched at the back of my throat. My bum was lifting from the wood, my body was so tense. I was on the verge of crying for him to get a bloody move on when he _finally _held up his hands for quiet.

"I am delighted with the large number of students who seem to know what the Quidditch League is, but I'm afraid I still spy a few befuddled expressions amidst you all so I will explain what the League involves. For those who are aware of what the Quidditch League is, you are free to plug your ears while I tell..."

"Well thank goodness _someone's _going to tell me what's happening," Annie said, straightening in her seat and looking at Dumbledore pointedly. I blinked at her. Huh? What flew up her butt and died?

"The Quidditch League is a competition between many different schools, though only four teams will reach the finals. In fact, now that I've mentioned it, the finals are much like the inter-house Quidditch Cup we here at Hogwarts host, with the two teams with the highest points playing for the Cup. Unlike our own cup final, however, there will be only one team playing for Hogwarts which will be made up of all four of our houses, Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw…" Everybody _but _the majority of Slytherin's and Gryffindor's babbled excitedly at this news.

Dumbledore's lips quirked as he too, took in the silent glares passed between the two houses. He continued, "Yes, yes, it's all very exciting, but I'm afraid there is just one catch…" I waited with bated breath. "In order for you to tryout for the Hogwarts Quidditch team, you will have to already be playing for your own house I'm afraid." And, ignoring the sudden, blazing 'What's?!' that bellowed throughout the room, he continued with a pleasant smile, "Now, now that I've given your minds something to stew over for the night, I think it's time for bed. We'll continue this topic once all house teams have been decided. Good night."

I laughed gleefully. This was bloody brilliant! This was it, the opportunity I'd been waiting my whole life for. It had finally come!

My grin was wide and I turned to Annie, who frowned at my goofy expression. I didn't answer her questioning look, but instead found my eyes drifting down the table. I hadn't even realised who I'd been looking for until my eyes landed on him.

Malfoy was grinning at somebody I couldn't see, looking just as thrilled as I felt with his eyes burning a warmth that somehow softened their usual cold depths. My eyebrows jumped up as I took in his elated expression. It had to be the first time I'd ever seen him look, well…_happy_. He was always so scornful, his face either sneering or smirking, nothing else. There was never any slips where he might show a hint of a smile, or anything at all remotely soft. Y'know what, I don't even think I've heard him laugh.

Huh. I couldn't believe it, but he was actually looking pretty human-like. It was a good look for him, I realised.

If only he would grin like that more often…

Suddenly, as if my gaze were a weight, his eyes flickered upwards and caught mine, snatching me from my dreamlike state like a fish from water and holding me breathless in his net. I jumped, flushing at being caught staring. And at Draco Malfoy too, I mean Aoife! Could I get anymore gross? But even as I berated myself, my mind threw me the image of him again and I remembered how _different _he'd looked. I mean, that grin…and those eyes…they really did light up his whole face y'know…

The beginnings of a smirk teased the corners of his mouth, and I realised I was staring. _Again_.

Bugger, what is up with me?! Did someone slip something into my pumpkin juice when I wasn't looking? Or is this karma for my teasing Annie with that chocolate éclair? Damn, I knew that was sitting a little heavy on my stomach. Indigestion must be messing with my mind. Yeah, that's it. Cutting off my mental processes and whatnot.

"…too excited if I were you Winterbourne." Oh bugger, he's talking. "You've still got to get on the house team." Huh? House team? What was the twit blubbering on about n… - oh. _Oh_. Mentally, I cringed. For a moment there, all concept of the Quidditch League had fled my mind. Obviously, it was the distress of my finding Malfoy semi-attractive and not the actual discovery of finding Malfoy semi-attractive that had stunted my memory, but nevertheless, I was a little horrified at myself. The biggest opportunity of my life, and I forget it in the next second?

"The offer still stands though," he continued and I frowned, still shaking off the driblets of shock from my mind.

"Er…?"

"The position of mascot is still available, but I suggest you decide fast. Looks like there'll be some stiff competition coming from Longbottom over there - I swear, he's been trying to catch my eye all night." His followers laughed, though from the confused glances they kept shooting each other, they had no idea what they were laughing at.

Any traces that I had thought of Malfoy being semi attractive were seared from my mind with the heat of my anger. That pig slime! That big nose! Why I outta -

I sprung up from my chair, not quite sure what I was about to do but needing to do something, when just as quickly someone grabbed my arm, and abruptly plucked me from my seat. Stumbling, my rage reached newer heights as the person manhandled me further, and - are you _kidding _me? Threaded their arm through mine. The bloody cheek -

"Well, _excuse me_--!" I snapped, tugging at my arm as I spun to look at them, my eyeballs practically popping from my sockets.

"Darling," Annie said (ie. Man handler), not at all baffled by my foaming at the mouth state as she lead me through the crowd of students making their way back to their common rooms. "You really shouldn't let Malfoy get to you like that."

I frowned at her as I yanked my robes back over my shoulders. "Huh? What you on about? I don't let him get to me." Annie's eyebrows lifted and she very indelicately snorted.

"What? I don't!"

"I never said a word."

"Don't you go playing that game with me! You snorted! That's practically a word!"

"Oh well, terribly sorry darling. My mistake." I nodded my head sharply.

Too right. Thinking I'd let that git get to _me_. Ha! What a joke. I mean, I don't get _that _angry at him…well, I do, but that's only because he deserves it! He's always acting like such a superficial ponce, thinking he's above the rest of us just because he's a _'Malfoy'_. I mean, who cares? You've got blonde hair and a lot of money, yippee for you! Ugh, and that smirk! He just _never stops _smirking it! He must think its cool or something which is just plain sad 'cause it most definitely -

Oh Merlin.

…

Guess it wasn't such a joke after all.

* * *

Sorry folks, but it's yet another remediation! Nothing too drastic except I removed the carriage scene and expanded on the end bit so there was a little more explanation on what the Quidditch League actually was. I left you all hanging a little about that with the other version.

I'm still not quite sure about this chapter. At times, I felt Draco was kinda slipping from his character, the endings pretty bad (again :P) and the language of it all is just a little messed up, but it'll flow better into the next chapter (I hope) and that's basically all I needed.

Um, I've actually seen this happen before with other stories y'know where the author asks questions and gets them answered in reviews? Well, I wanna try it because I do need some guidance on a few things, if you could all maybe help a little. **Can't see the forest for the trees **y'know?

**What do you think about Annie and Aoife's relationship? Do they seem like best friends to you? **

It's just their conversations have turned out a little harder to write than I'd thought they'd be and I'm wondering if maybe that's because they're just don't seem capable of being friends. Soo, I want to see what you guys think!

But, if not? Thanks for reading anyways!

x

**F.K**


	3. Three

_So folks, HAPPY NEW YEAR! Hope you had a good one! (and didn't nearly get crushed and hit with flying glass bottles like I did. Aah, good times...)  
__Here's the 3rd chapter, and yes! *dodges carton of beans thrown my way from angry reader* It's a tad er, tardy which is pretty weird since I typed this really fast but it's here now, and that's all that matter innit? *grins with an enthusiasm readers don't appreciate*_

_Hmm...  
Anyhoo's without further ado, here ya go! _

* * *

"What utter poppycock!" Annie cried, throwing open the dormitory door with a little more oomph than was really necessary and marching to her trunk. "Have to be on your house team indeed! Why, what did that ever prove?" I hid my smile as I followed her, knowing her anger was only for my benefit. She dropped to her knees and grappled with her trunk buckle, still muttering heatedly under her breath.

"Maybe that you can play?" I guessed, toppling down on my bed and eyeing her from the corner of my eye. Annie glanced up at me sharply, her frizzed curls falling into her eyes.

"Why yes I know that. I'm just trying to be on your side here darling." My smile widened.

"I mean, personally, I don't see what attracts you to such a ghastly sport but Merlin's beard Aoife! What on Earth are you going to do?" Annie perched on her knees, looking at me earnestly as she threw her hands up in the air. "This moment defines the moment of all your other moments! And considering the present circumstances with -"

"Malfoy as captain. Yeah, I know Annie. He's not gonna let me on the team. He practically cleared any doubt of that back there." My smile disappeared from my face at the mention of his name and I turned over onto my back, staring up at the bed's ceiling.

Annie turned quiet, because really how could she deny it? She shook her head disbelievingly.

"What Malfoy has against you I just don't know. I mean, I know you punched him in the face at his ninth birthday party, and threw him in the pond at Mrs. Lilburn's wedding, and stomped on his foot when he ruined our den…" She caught my expression. "But surely he'd have gotten over that by _now_!"

"Annie, this is Malfoy we're talking about. He probably keeps archives of people who've 'wronged him'." I made quote marks in the air with my fingers. Annie let out a sheepish little laugh, and grinned at me.

"Yes, he does seem that sort of character doesn't he?"

And that, ladies and gentlemen was Annie letting her inner inhibitions run wild.

I let out a small whistle. "wow, Annie that was tough. I'm sure Malfoy will burst out crying when he hears."

She rolled her eyes, "Oh, hardy har," and threw a sock at my head. I laughed as it missed by a mile. "Just 'cause we're not all Quidditch players with _perfect _aim…" I heard her mutter sarcastically and I grinned wider.

"Jealous?" I teased. She stopped and looked at me, giving me a slow and obvious once-over with her nose pointed skyward. "Sorry darling, but there's just not much there to be jealous of."

"Ooh_, touché_!" and despite the insult, I continued to grin. Annie pulled back her bed covers and settled down.

"Night darling."

"Yeah sure. Night."

--------------

The door burst open, startling me from my sleep. "Aoife…!" Annie gasped, putting a hand against the door frame as she tried to regain her breath. "You…won't…believe…!"

"Annie?" I jumped from the bed and ran to her side. "Annie wh -" A great gust of air spurted from her mouth. "…Malfoy…"

I took her arm and guided her to her bed, pushing her down on the edge. I sat on my own bed, watching her as she slowly regained her breath to form words. "What happened Annie? What did Malfoy do to you?"

"Went downstairs…for muffin…" Annie managed, "…heard voices… naturally had to look…Malfoy…and Flint…Quidditch trials." Quidditch trials? Malfoy and Flint were talking about Quidditch trials? My heart slipped. That was it? I frowned, looking at Annie's sweaty face as another spurt of breath puffed from her mouth. No, it couldn't be. Annie wouldn't get into such a state if that were it - something else must've happened.

"Yes?" I pushed, edging forward on the bed subconsciously. "And?"

"The pitch…now…" My brow knitted together. Annie spluttered a cough and took in one last, huge breath.

"Aoife, we m - must go to the p - pitch. _Now_. Malfoy's setting up the team this very minute."

"He's what?" I hissed, jumping to my feet and staring down at her. "But he hasn't even set up times yet!"

"And he doesn't plan to! He said so himself downstairs. No ''riff raff' like Winterbourne' was going to be on his team he said!" Riff raff? What kind of insult was _that_?

"That slimy little bugger," I said, clenching my fist and glaring at Parkinson's trunk. So, that was Malfoy's plan was it? Set up a team without giving fair advantage to everyone else ey? Ugh, I knew I hated the git for a reason. "Let's go Annie."

"Of course. And don't you worry Aoife! We will kick his smug, dainty little bottom to the depths of the Great Lake if need be to stop this from happening!"

And on that note, we left the dormitory for the Quidditch Pitch.

****

"oh, how _exciting_!" Annie gushed, as we tread slowly around the base of the stands, our backs flat against the cold wood. It was damp from the earlier rain fall and the water seeped straight through our robes to our skin, chilling us to the bone. A skittering of goosebumps tripped across my flesh and I shuddered.

"I feel just like Cynthia Bogles from _'Three men and a little monster'_."

"_Annie_…" I stopped for what seemed the umpteenth time in two minutes and held my finger against my lips. Her eyes widened.

"Oh, oh yes. Sorry!"

"We want to keep the element of surprise, remember?" I said, wondering vaguely if I maybe should've left Annie back in the dorm.

"Yes, yes, of course darling. Lead on." I waited for a few seconds more, giving her the opportunity to say something else. She didn't. We edged forward, our pace slow as our feet slid in the soft muddy grass. We were almost at the corner. All was eerily quiet. All I could hear was Annie's heavy, shuddering breath's though I was sure…I peered in my concentration, listening hard. I'm sure I could just make out…--

"Or equally Martin Miggs, the mad muggle. Did you know that he's based on a _real _muggle? Imagine -" I whirled. This time, I didn't need to say anything. Nodding my head sharply at her pressed lips, I continued on.

We finally reached the corner and I, with a final affirmative glance with Annie, peered around the bend.

Moonlight spilled into the stadium, bathing the entire pitch in milky white light and I blinked as my eyes slowly adjusted to the sudden brightness. The three hoops at the end of the field glinted in the glow, throwing large black shadows across the snowy ground.

And in the center of it all, there they were.

"So this was your plan was it Malfoy?" Without thinking, I stepped out from the shadows of the stands and looked at him and his Cronies of Cretins holding my wand out in front of me. I could see the surprise flicker through their wide eyes - some in individual cases more postponed than others - and then the 'Oh crap. Busted' notion chase soon after it. I folded my arms and smiled at them all.

"Won't the Professor's be ecstatic to hear about this. The Slytherin captain sending out misinformed times to make a biased team?" I shook my head wistfully as I took my wand out from my pocket and lit it. "I do believe Flitwick will have a coronary."

Malfoy stared for a few seconds more before his blank expression melted into one of mockery. "Winterbourne please. Lower the wand before you hurt yourself."

I glared at him, lifting my wand higher and putting it up in his face. If I was lucky enough, the light might just burn out his eyeballs. "Didn't anybody ever tell you not to underestimate people, Malfoy?"

"And didn't anybody tell you not to play with sharp pointy sticks? Really, Winterbourne you could poke someone's eye out with that." He was forced backwards as I pressed my wand against his nose, squashing the tip of his nose into a flattened button.

"Well, we can only hope," I growled. Malfoy blinked, then ripped his gaze from my wand to glare at his friends who were all just standing there watching our exchange with gormless expressions.

"Well don't just stand there, do something!" The command seemed to spur them from their comatose states. They turned to me and reached out with meaty hands as they advanced.

"Now, now gentlemen. Calm down. I'm sure we could all be responsible adults and talk this out." Crabbe and Goyle stopped in their tracks, grunting their wonder at the sudden voice and looking from side to side.

"She's behind you, you idiots." Annie walked around them, leaving a wide gap between her and them. Her wand was raised, pointing straight at Crabbe's mishmashed face, contradicting her amiable words. I could see this new piece of information filter slowly in their minds.

"And yes, Annie is an O grade at Transfiguration," I informed helpfully. "So, I'd proceed with caution if I were you _Flint," _who had taken a formidable step forward. "After all, you might just find yourself turned into a piece of crockery. Oh yes. . .I could definitely picture you Flint as a tea cosy."

"Keep talking, Winter -"

"What colour would you say Annie? Red? Lime?" Annie titled her head to the side and peered at Flint. "No, I'd venture more for pink. Would go swimmingly with his eyes."

Flint glared, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. His _gorgeous _display of dentistry flashed crookedly in the small light of my wand as he growled. Nevertheless, he shut up.

"But y'know, if you just give me what I want, I might be able to overlook this." Malfoy gingerly reached out to lower my wand from his nostril with one thin fingertip.

"Oh really?" he asked, moving backwards. "And what is that?"

"A proper trial for me to get on the team that isn't based on my being female, small and generally weaker than a guy …" There was a small cough from Annie, and she added, "And a few souvenir tickets for Honey Dukes sweet shop if it wouldn't be too much of a trouble."

I turned to him. "So, Malfoy. What do you say?"

"As touching as that life story was Winterbourne, I just don't think we feel much like agreeing, do we boys?" Malfoy straightened his shoulders importantly, his confidence now restored as he wormed his way back by his bodyguards side. He looked over his shoulder at them all and turned back to me with a smug look. I ground my teeth together.

"Fine," I seethed, raising my wand again. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

"Oh, you're going to fight us are you?" he sneered. Crabbe punched his fist into his palm, mashing his features together in an attempt to glare. Goyle crossed his arms, smirking. Flint just glared.

Annie's wand wavered. "Whatever you do," I hissed from the corner of my mouth, not moving my gaze from them. "Don't - break - formation."

"O - ok." I chewed my lip, trying to think up a plan.

"Okay Annie, basically, if worst comes to worst stuff your wand up someone's nose, land a few punches and run." She glanced over at me, wide-eyed before slowly turning back to face the advancing troop and nodding her head.

"Just like Cynthia Bogles, Annie…just like Cynthia Bogles…" I heard her mutter wildly under her breath. I couldn't help but notice the desperate edge to her voice.

"Any last words Winterbourne?" Malfoy leered.

I snorted. "Besides telling you how incredibly cliché that was?" I pretended to think. "Nope. You Annie?"

"W - well…" My mouth fell open. I snapped my head round to face her. She easily overlooked my scandalised expression.

"I do just want to p - point out the fact that though you do outnumber us t - two to four -" her voice broke a little, as if she would rather not think about it. "Which, might I remind you is an act of profound cowardice - Aoife and I here will still in fact 'kick your arse', and when we do so we will be entirely too smug about it!"

I looked at her with new admiration. That there was fighting talk. And from Annie! Grinning so wide the sides of my mouth began to ache, I turned back to them and raised my eyebrow, daring them to challenge that! They all blinked owlishly at my curly-haired friend, astonished. Malfoy was the first to recover and he shot his friends a dark look to break them from their trance before turning his glower on Annie.

"I see Winterbourne has been rubbing off on you Clementine," he said, flickering a glance my way and I glared when our eyes hit. "and I thought you were the clever one…"

"Okay, okay, enough with the chit chat," I intervened, sensing Annie's unease at Malfoy's undivided attention. Plus, waiting made me feel antsy.

"Ladies first," I grinned, gesturing for Malfoy to start. He sneered.

"Fine," he spat, reaching into his robes and pulling out his wand. "Don't make the mistake of thinking I'll go soft on you because you're a girl Winterbourne."

"And don't make the mistake of thinking I'll go soft on _you _because you're a girl!" I copied. His nostrils flared. His eyes flashed. He whipped up his wand up and pointed it at me.

"That does it. _Petrif_ -!"

"Alrigh' now what's goin' on here?!" We both jumped, spinning round to face the direction the voice had come from. A great, moving black hulk was making its way over to us, the lamp in its huge hand throwing yellow light across the dewy grass. As it got closer, I recognised it to be Hagrid, my care of magical creatures teacher. I heard Annie exhale a shuddering breath, as she too realised who it was.

"Winterbourne? Malfoy?" his dark, beetle-like eyes creased in confusion as he took in the four other students shuddering under his gaze. "What yeh all think yer doin' out at this time? More to the point, what do yeh think yer doin' with that wand there Malfoy?"

"Well, what does it look like?" he sneered, pocketing his wand. "Winterbourne here started threatening me -" my mouth fell open. That scummy little liar! "because I wouldn't let her on the team, and I was merely protecting myself."

I snorted loudly, and turned on the spot to face him. "Yeah, right, sure. And that's why _you _were the one with your wand raised, huh? Yeah, I can see how that makes sense." Malfoy smirked.

"Glad that you agree." I opened my mouth ready to argue some more then froze caught off guard. Huh? What was he on - I did a recap of the conversation. And groaned. _Oh, _bugger!

"I didn't mean that, you lying son of a -" As quick as that, Malfoy's smirk flickered from his face and his eyes flashed black.

"I'd watch what you say about my mother, Winterbourne," he said softly, the threat of his words hanging heavy in the cold night.

"Well tell the bloody truth then!" I cried throwing my hands up in the air. Hagrid watched this exchange with slowly narrowing eyes.

After all, he had a comfy seat, pot of freshly brewed tea (with something a little stronger on the side) and the latest issue of 'Witches and Home' waiting for him back at his cabin and the longer he spent watching these two lovebirds squabble, the longer it took for him to read the 'tips and tricks' of Eunice Lay, this issue on 'how to feng shui your home/cabin/cave'.

"Alrigh' you two," he said, reaching out and grabbing a large handful of our cloaks, yanking us apart. "Yer both comin' wi' me. And as for the rest of yeh, yeh best get goin' before I tell Filch there's students outta bed."

"I say!" Malfoy cried. "Take your brutish hands off me, this instant! If my father -"

"Oh shut _up_!" Malfoy opened his mouth to argue but hastily shut it as one very large finger pointed at him between his eyes.

"You two," Hagrid growled, glancing at us both. "Follow me."

Malfoy scoffed to himself, giving Hagrid a look. "Oh really? And where will we be going?"

Hagrid looked back once as he made his way back towards the castle. The shadows were playing heavily across his face, his eyes glinting darkly it seemed and setting an appropriately ominous atmosphere to join his next words.

"Why, to Professor Snape's office o'course. An' I'm sure he'll just be _thrilled _to see yeh both."

* * *

_Wahaha, evil Hagrid!! All I can say is that he really wanted to read that article…  
Ha, I had real fun writing this one. _

_As ever, reviews would be most appreciated and in fact, this author would be so touched if you were to do so, that she would even share a packet of her beloved HobNobs with you. And if that ain't the best piece of blackmail I've heard in a long time, I dunno what is!_

_But, if that definetly granny influenced speech hasn't worked on you, (seriously, you must think I'm 100 or something) thanks for reading anyways! (and hopefully you will return)!!_

_x_


	4. Four

_"I see London, I see France, I see Draco's underpants!" ;P_

_So, here's chapter four! Hope you all like it chicklings! Really, I should be doing some economics homework right about now but it sucks, so I'm not. : )__I'm a little quicker than I have been before, yes? _

_Oh and a **BIG**! **BIG**! thank you to you two girls who reviewed my last chapter, **Nelle07** and **Manic-Cheese-Fairy**. You were both so very nice to me. _

_I really do appreciate all your thoughts._

* * *

"Well, I have to say Winterbourne, I underestimated you…" I was midway through stomping up the stairs when Malfoy said just that, and I instantly froze, the mud-capped sole of my shoe literally hovering above the stone step. Slowly and just a little dazedly, I lowered it and turned.

"What?" I said, narrowing my eyes suspiciously as he swaggered passed. I followed him with my eyes. Did Malfoy,_ the_ Malfoy, just give me a compliment? Fine, compliment was a bit of stretch, but he had just said something to me that wasn't sneered or suggested I was the human equivalent to bat droppings. Was he actually going to say that he was impressed with my daring tonight? I bubbled with sudden unbidden excitement. What if he was actually considering letting me on the team? Could it honestly be that Malfoy's heart wasn't quite as shrivelled and dead as we all believed?

He carried on. "…you are for more stupid than I had initially thought." Then again…maybe not.

I blinked, rearing back as if hit. He looked back at me rooted on the steps, his eyes gleaming.

The cool, numb sensation of my shock dribbled from my body and out onto the stone steps like heated wax. Something hot and molten scratched in my stomach beneath my belly button, clawing it's way up and up while growing in size until my whole body was under it's fiery siege.

My nostrils flared and Malfoy was certain he could see steam coil from them in the cold night air. His smirk flickered a little. I charged up the remaining steps seeing red but before I could beat seven shades of tartan out of the little swine, Hagrid's rumbling voice cut in, "Righ' you two, that's enough. Don't want you wakin' the whole castle up with yer bickerin'." Malfoy sneered at him, curling his lip and scrunching his nose while he gave the giant a disgusted once-over. Hagrid's words seemed to have fallen on deaf ears however, for after just a few more minutes of quiet in which I listened sourly to the dull crackling of the flames on the walls, Malfoy turned back to me.

"Really, what had you thought you were going to achieve tonight? Calling a person a tea cosy isn't exactly what I'd call a productive way to spend the evening."

"I had a plan," I snapped unable to help myself as I wiggled my shoulders straight. I stuck out my chin, avoiding his glittering eyes. "It just wasn't the right time for it is all."

"Oh really? So what was that I heard you mutter to that girl. Something about stuffing wands up noses and running. Ring any bells?" _'Ring any bells?'_ I mimicked in his posh English accent, pulling a pompous face to match his own ugly mug.

"And as attractive as that face was Winterbourne, I think you'll find I'm not easily distracted."

My face turned surly. "Okay, so first off, you know Annie's name so don't call her, 'that girl' you dingbat. Second, -"

"What I tell you 'bout bein' quiet?" My words dried up in my mouth as I looked into Hagrid's black eyes, probably the only feature of his face that wasn't covered with grizzly hair.

"Sorry professor," I mumbled, lowering my eyes before wondering what had gotten the usually amiable giant into such a grumpy mood. I heard Malfoy snigger to himself and I shot him a proper good glare under my eyelashes, swallowing the growl itching its way up my throat.

We reached Professor Snape's office far quicker than I had wanted. I fiddled with the edges of my sleeves as Hagrid pounded a gigantic fist against Snape's office door. Well, there's no turning back now.

"I can't believe I'm stood here," Malfoy grumbled plainly, glaring at me from beneath the white blonde of his eyebrows. "All because you couldn't keep your big nose out of other people's -"

"Oh, put a sock in it already," I snapped. Seriously, the boy could bicker for Britain! He was worse than an old hag for crying out loud!

"Finally…" I heard Hagrid mutter gruffly under his breath before he knocked heavily on the wooden door again.

"Oh, what is it?" a slippery, and unhappy voice snarled, just as the door swung open revealing Snape in all his glowering, greasy-haired glory. In tartan pyjamas no less I noticed, glimpsing a flash of the checked pattern from under his black cloak which he was hastily trying to yank closed. Obviously, we'd woken him up. Dear Merlin.

Save us.

He glowered at the giant in front of him. "Hagrid, what are you -" I tried to stop it, I really did but I couldn't. The cough scratched it's way up my throat and I spluttered, gasping uncontrollably into my hand. Snape stiffened before very, very slowly, his black eyes slipped from Hagrid to Malfoy and I, swallowing our muddy shoes and hems with a slight curl of his lip. I fiddled nervously with my sleeves while Malfoy glared mercilessly at me, obviously not too impressed with my timing.

"Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Winterbourne…" Snape drawled in that cool voice of his, disgust curdling every syllable. "To what do I owe this…_pleasure_." The word rolled off his tongue as if he had tasted something foul. It didn't take much for me to realise that his tone clearly said in true slippery Slytherin fashion, that this meeting derived absolutely no pleasant feelings from him and that if we had been making a nuisance of ourselves, then our ass was pretty much grass. And how typical was it that that was just exactly what we'd been doing, though it was completely Malfoy's fault, the prat. Snape appeared to know this too, his eyes lingering a little too long on the dirty state of my shoes. Either that, or he was deciding whether he fancied a pair for himself.

"Found 'em both at the Quidditch pitch, professor Snape sir. Looked like they were about to duel if yeh ask me," Hagrid intervened helpfully, looking at us both. Malfoy finally relieved me of his foul look, only to flip it onto Hagrid. Snape's eyes finally, with the pace of a turtle on it's last legs, pulled from my shoes to look at both our faces.

"Sir," Malfoy cut in smoothly, secure in the knowledge that he was Snape's favourite student in the whole year and thus, unlikely to get in much trouble. He sent me a smug smirk, as if to rub it in before washing it cleanly from his face, and replacing it with a solemn expression. "Quite clearly there has been some mistake -"

"I sincerely hope so Mr. Malfoy. Both of you in my office." Malfoy opened his mouth. "_Now_." Malfoy whitened, nodded quickly and darted inside the dark office in the same second. Snape languidly turned his head to me as I made no effort to move. "Ms. Winterbourne, are you hard of hearing?"

I frowned, looking from left to right as if to ask the suits of armour on either side of me what to say. "Er…no sir?"

"Well then, do you think you are far too superior to listen to my instructions, or have you just been sniffing too much broom polish?" I closed my eyes, flicking them open to glare at a spot above Snape's shoulder. From the corner of my eye, I saw Hagrid shift.

"I'll, er, jus' get goin' then…" he said, taking his leave though not before giving me an apologetic almost sheepish smile. My scowl hardened at the attempt of friendliness. After all, it was his fault I was at Snape's in the first place. Stupid giant, even if I did get an O in Magical Creatures…

"Well, Ms. Winterbourne…?"

"No sir," I finally ground out between my teeth. "I don't."

"Then why are you still out here? Follow Mr. Malfoy's good instruction and get into my office."

My entire body quivered with barely restrained irritation at being told what to do. With one baleful glare down at my shoes, I walked into the office, my legs stiff and awkward as if they refused to take me there.

The office as per usual, was dimly lit, with the vestiges of an old fire glowing burnt orange under the weight of grey ash in the hearth. Shelf upon shelf of glass jars filled with grisly finds lined the shadowed walls and when I spotted a toad bobbing lifelessly in some purple liquid, looking out at me with unblinking, meaningful eyes as if imploring for me to save it from it's fateful end boiled in a stew, I very quickly flickered my gaze to the table and chairs. Much, much better…or at least, it would've been had some blond not been there to ruin the fine image.

He was sitting in the chair farthest from me slouched, with his elbows overlapping the sides of the old chair as his hands clasped across his stomach, looking an off white against the poor lighting and dark colour of his robes. Long, lean legs spread out in front of him, and I observed with a roll of my eyes, him crossing them at the ankles effortlessly. All in all, he was displaying the image of utter nonchalance.

I scowled at the arrogance of him, sitting there as if he were 'lord of the manor'. Quite clearly, somebody wasn't worried about getting into trouble. He looked over at me as I walked to the seat, scowling as I reluctantly thumped down.

"Aah Winterbourne," he said, lifting his arms to tuck them behind his neck, a smirk settled across his pale lips. "I suggest you savour these next few moments. I doubt…-" But what indeed he doubted, I didn't find out as my attention was, quite unexpectedly, snatched by something else of his.

His muscles, to be precise, which were pressing almost criminally against the confines of his jumper as his back arched with his stretch. Every crevice, every ridge of his chest was now visible to my wide and shameless eyes. I was never one to trip over myself for a well chiselled, marvellously toned, almost _sculpted -_ _moving on!_ - chest, because when you play Quidditch, well you see quite a lot of open nakedness what with testosterone raging in the air and girls screaming for guys to get their tops off and guys being only too willing to…. But, for some reason despite all this, the mere outline - outline for crying out loud! - of Malfoy's had my mouth watering.

Which I just couldn't understand! Why did I care what Malfoy looked like! I'd known him for nearly all my life and never once had he ever appealed to me, even if I had somewhere in the back of my mind admitted that he wasn't so bad looking. After all, who couldn't notice those eyes of hi - NO! Malfoy was a rat! A pile of steaming, stinking dung fresh from a hippogriff's butt! He was rude, and conceited, and vile! _Everything _I hate! I mean, how could I even look at him like that when I knew how horrible he was? Because he was! He wasn't nasty just on his off days, he actually _liked _to hurt people, he _wanted _to ruin people's lives because he was a spiteful, heartless low life who needed to lower other people's self confidence because he needed to jump start his own! (Or at least, that was Annie's diagnosis, but I _fully _stood by her!!)

"You do realise that staring is rude don't you?" The bigot's voice broke through my internal seething, and it just oozed with palpable conceit. I glared at him, trying to project my thoughts into his head through eye contact.

"Naturally, I understand," Malfoy prattled on. "After all, many a witch would kill to have a piece of _this_." He unfurled his hand from his neck to gesture to his himself. "Did you know that when they put me in Witch's Weekly's most eligible bachelors, I received more than five hundred owls from some _very _fine ladies declaring their undying love for me?" Yeah, all from his mum most likely.

He looked at me as if I should fall at his feet and kiss the ground he walked on.

"Whatever Malfoy."

"Just face it Winterbourne," he smirked, lowering his hands from his neck to lean towards me. I looked away from him. "You think I'm dishy." I spluttered a laugh, returning my gaze to him.

"Dishy? Oh, you did _not _just say that." If anything, Malfoy's smirk widened. His eyes gleamed with the foreign sparkle I had seen in them at the Great Hall - that look of them being alive.

"Just admit it. After all, it's merely logical that you'd be attracted to me. In case you hadn't noticed, I have quite an effect on young ladies."

"Yeah but in case _you _hadn't noticed," I whispered back, leaning forward. "Little cousins and Crabbe and Goyle dressed up don't count."

His face twisted in disgust as obviously the hulking image of Crabbe and Goyle with blonde pigtails and pink summer dresses settled in his mind. I understood greatly, since I was imagining the same thing.

"Hmm, well I see somebody's still in denial…" he said, returning his hands to behind his neck his repulsed face gone and his smirk returned.

I narrowed my eyes. "Ugh, you are the most repulsive, dirty-mouthed ponce of a ferret I've ever had the misfortune to meet!" I inhaled deeply with a shudder as the words rushed from my mouth in one heated breath.

Malfoy glared, slowly taking his arms away from his neck.

"Say that again, Winterbourne."

"What too much words for your puny, pea sized brain to handle? Fine, I'll say it slower then! You're. A. Repulsive -"

The door crashed open.

I heard Snape whoosh inside in that dramatic way of his that he usually reserved for first impressions with first years where he would frighten them silly with his slow drawl and biting words, and the door slammed shut behind him. I quickly shut up.

"Explain.." Snape drawled, planting his palms on the desk and leering at us both from the other side. His cloak was still shuddering from the spins it had danced with his overly zealous entrance.

We both shared one single glance. And then our mouths opened.

"Well professor, _Winterbourne _here -"

"Sir, he was trying to set up a false team -!"

"..threatened me. I have witnesses."

"I - " I stopped, then pulled a face as I spun to him. "You have 'witnesses'? Who the hell says that to a teacher? Which reminds me actually - 'riffraff'? If you want to insult someone Malfoy - "

The words choked and died on my lips as quite suddenly, I found myself face to face with a very large, very hooked nose. "Are you quite done?" Snape seethed, his lips peeling back to reveal yellow teeth. "Or do you expect us all to endure another of your mindless tirades?" I glared, my eyes going slightly cross-eyed in the process. _Yes_!!

"_No_," I grimaced, holding eye contact with him for only another few seconds before I had to look away.

"Mr. Malfoy," Snape said, pushing away from me slowly though not removing eye contact. "Continue." Malfoy smirked.

"Well, you see sir, Winterbourne here seemed to have decided that it was ok for her to be at the Quidditch Pitch tonight. I'd fallen a sleep on the couch in the common room professor, and heard her leaving--" my mouth fell open at the stream of lies flying from his mouth. Snape noticed and glared for me to not vocalise my obvious protests but I ignored him. Like I'm going to just sit here and let that grease ball web a set of lies about me!

"You liar!" I cried, pointing at him accusingly.

"Winterbourne, sit back down."

I turned to Snape, stabbing my finger in Malfoy's direction. "But professor--!"

"Do not make me repeat myself." I stared ferociously into his eyes, unbelieving before thumping back down in my seat, crossing my arms and scowling. Great! Just great! He wouldn't even listen to me. Some bloody professor he was!

Snape gestured for Malfoy to carry on. "As I was saying," Malfoy began, eyeing me darkly before turning back to Snape. "Winterbourne went down to the Quidditch pitch and I followed. Crabbe, Goyle and Marcus Flint came with me too professor, because they all knew how unstable she was -"

"Shut up!" I screamed, my blood boiling. "You're the one who was planning on setting up a biased team! I wouldn't have _had _to go down in the first place if it weren't for you!" I was practically spurting steam.

Malfoy finally dropped his 'I'm a little innocent gay boy' act and swung round to face me. He scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"With four people? In case you hadn't noticed Winterbourne, there are _seven _people on a team." A dark shadow settled on my brow and I reared my chin into my neck, glaring at him from beneath my eyelashes.

"I know how many people are on a team _Malfoy_…-"

"_Silence_!" Snape spat, skewering us both with a glare so formidable I instantly quietened. Snape slid forward, landing his hands on the table and sliding them along the top as if pressing his irritation into the wood. He glanced between us. "Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is?! I expect better from my seventh years…" His eyes slipped from me to Malfoy. "Or at least, from you Mr. Malfoy."

My face creased in annoyance and I tried not to be stung. Well, fine, who cares what that greasy haired old bugger thinks anyway! Not like I need potions or anything. It's a stupid subject really when you think about it. You just basically throw a bunch of dead roots in a cauldron, some decaying piece of flesh like a toenail or something and voila! There's your potion. I mean, who can't do that? Okay, so Longbottom has a bit of trouble but he's practically a whole new case of wizard in himself.

I'm not quite sure what exactly instigated Snape to harbour such feelings of animosity for me. Maybe it was because I spilt that potion over him in second year and he'd spent the next two weeks covered in pus-filled boils because magic couldn't cure them…or y'know, it could've been that time when Oswald the family ferret sunk his teeth into his nose in the common room…Whatever. It was a mystery to me. No point in crying over spilt potion as gran would say.

"Quite frankly, I don't care what pathetic excuse either of you have managed to scrounge up in those dunderheads of yours." Those his words appeared to be for us both, Snape didn't lift his gaze from me. "A letter will be sent to both of your parent's immediately," Snape continued. "And though that never seems to work with _you _Winterbourne, I will not have one of my students get a detention a mere six hours into the term. Now, go. And make sure I don't see you here again."

"I don't see why you just don't give up Winterbourne," an all too familiar voice greeted me once I'd closed the door, sounding far too cheerful for my liking. I groaned at the sight of the blonde leaning against the wall and walked straight passed him, feeling too tired and angry to deal with Malfoy right now. Or at least, so close to Snape's office. Maybe when we got around the next corner I could throttle him to death and finally remove his irritating existence from my life. After all, Hagrid's pumpkin patch would be a pretty decent place to bury him…

"You see, there's a certain code of conduct," he said, falling into pace with me and essentially cutting off my morbid thoughts of alibis and destroying evidence. "A time-honoured code of sorts…, though," he said, flashing me a look nobody could mistake for being disgustingly conceited. "I suppose, what with your social standing, you wouldn't know." My jaw tightened. Who did he think he was, the bloody high and mighty? High and mighty ponce more like.

"You see Winterbourne, girls just don't play Quidditch. Never have and never will. Really, what makes you think you're different?"

I gritted my teeth together. Malfoy better watch it because at the moment I was feeling enough hate towards him that I could definitely Avada kedavra his ass into the next life.

And as Malfoy prattled on more and more about how I should just give up after the "little stunt I had pulled tonight" I realised more and more that I needed a plan. A good plan, a great plan, a plan which would knock Malfoy down a peg or two and get me on the Hogwarts Quidditch team.

And I think I knew just the person to help me.

* * *

_Dun-dun-dunnnnn! Who, indeed, who could it possibly be?! And what is this I hear of a plan - oh my! Have you yourself got any internal rambles you would like to discuss with me? It could be anything! Anything at all! You wanna know the fat content of a HobNob, you got it! _

_And yes, that is me so very badly hinting for you to review. _

_Please do! _

_But, if not?_

_Thanks for reading amigo's!_

_x _

_**BTW**__. Is YouTube p*ssing anyone else off? They keep silencing songs or saying, I can't view some videos in my country! I'm not getting my Celine Dion fix here! *eye twitches*_


	5. Five

_No fear, I am still alive. Life's just been so hectic, I have all these essays to do for college (exams coming up, argh!) and then work at the weekends and every time I tried to write this chapter, I just ended up constantly hating the result. Words were just NOT flowing lol. But! I will no longer bore you with such boring and cliché details. _

_A quick __**thank you!! **__to you all you lovelies who reviewed last chapter + those who alerted and put me in your favourites. I'm thrilled that your reading my story and taking time to tell me what you think. And __**totallyanon**__, just for you since you asked (which I'm delighted about lol) the fat content of one McVities Hobnob with the chocolate on top issssss………4.5g!! No joke! When I found out I almost died since I eat like 6 at a time, lol!_

_DISCLAIMER! All rights go to J. K. Rowling for creating Harry Potter and so on, and this story is purely for my own cheap thrills. _

* * *

"Aoife, you can't possibly be serious."

"What?"

"We can't turn Malfoy into a toad!"

"And why not?" I challenged, tearing off a new chunk of blueberry muffin with my teeth and chewing it savagely in my mouth.

"Because it's completely immoral, that's why!" Annie gasped, her eyes bulging behind her spectacles as if astounded that I hadn't already considered the ethical issues of turning a boy into an amphibian. Not that I had mind you, but when that boy turns out to be a Malfoy, a person hardly burdened with morality (Malfoy had, after all bewitched snowmen to chase first years and pull down their trousers last year) I just didn't see the point. Taste of his own potion, that's what I say!

I shrugged a shoulder and polished of the rest of my cake, before plucking a slice of toast from the passing toast rack and spreading a thick layer of jam across the bread. "Yeah, so?"

"darling…" Annie sighed, "Two wrongs don't necessarily make a right."

"Yeah, yeah," I mumbled, waving my hand airily. "I know, but Annie. This is Malfoy we're talking about. _Malfoy_."

"I know darling," she conceded. "But imagine if you couldn't turn him back! Can't you just imagine how utterly horrifying that would be!"

"Er…no," I said honestly because the prospect of Malfoy being a toad forever didn't actually sound half bad. She rolled her eyes.

"Well I think it's terrible and since I would be the one forced to do it, that quite simply eliminates that idea." I didn't bother to argue because I knew full well that she was right. Annie was almost in Granger's league in Transfiguration, turning noses into beaks faster than I could blink, where I, on the other hand, was more on par with the Longbottom kid.

"So what we going to do now then?"

"Hmm…" she sipped some pumpkin juice from her goblet, pressing her lips together as she thought. I, on the other hand, preoccupied myself with shovelling eggs, bacon, tomatoes, French toast, and two more blueberry muffins onto my plate, practically salivating as the glorious delights spun delicious curls of steam into my nostrils.

It was only when I was mopping some tomato juice from my chin, that Annie began to speak.

"You say you want to destroy Draco Malfoy, yes darling?" she continued without looking at me, her eyes a tad glazed and peering at something over my shoulder.

"Well, I feel it's quite simple." Annie laid her palms flat against the table and leant forward. I noticed her eyes were no longer dulled with the vestiges of thought, but sharp and gleaming in the morning light spilling through the overhead windows.

"We must destroy everything that _is _Draco Malfoy."

At my gormless expression, she trudged on. "You know! Everything that makes him, _him_. Like, oh I don't know - his friends perhaps! After all, have you ever seen Malfoy without Crabbe and Goyle and the rest of his posse? Without them, why I believe he wouldn't have quite the same amount of backbone as he does with them." I nodded slowly, letting her words churn through my mind. Destroy everything that makes him, him. But what the hell makes Draco Malfoy?

I spooned some egg into my mouth and chewed it thoughtfully.

Slowly, the return journey to the common room with him last night swam to the forefront of my mind. Not once did his mouth halt from spilling insults and promoting his own self superiority! In my minds eye I saw myself walking alongside him, my height greatly surpassed by the tall, lean strength of his frame. The outline of muscles I had shamefully salivated at in Snape's office drifted back to my attention, as if attached by string to the prior image. And there was always that shock of blonde hair he had, flopping over the eyes I had heard many a girl sigh over.

Bugger it, you'd think I was his stalker or something.

I was ready to scold myself when I stopped. How did Malfoy have Parkinson stalking him (excluding the fact that Parkinson was already a mental case) and dreaming dreams which exuded sighs and giggles and terms that made me thank Merlin's cotton socks I couldn't mind read? How did he have nearly all of the female population eating from the palm of his slender fingered hands?

His looks!

Malfoy's looks were pretty much essential to who he was! Put a face like Crabbe or Goyle's under that mop of blonde hair, and I don't think he'd have quite as much of a hold over the student body as he does with his own mug.

"His face!" I cried, beaming. "We have to destroy his face!"

Annie blinked, looking quite startled. "Well, I wasn't wanting to get quite too physical darling. Violence is, after all, a conduct my nature does not allow."

"I meant his looks," I said impatiently. "We could turn his hair green or make his nose really big and ugly and fat - not that it isn't already, mind you - or hex him! Give him boils!"

"Yes," she whispered. "That would utterly ruin his chances with the ladies! And according to things that I've read darling, that can make a man incredibly frustrated."

"And so his reputation would go down the tubes!" I laughed gleefully. Who would've thought ruining a man was so much bloody fun!

"yes, but we'll have to take precautions," Annie said sternly. "After all, we don't want anyone realising it's you who's doing it. We'll have to make it known to Malfoy of course, but we can't have any incriminating evidence against us. I also think it would be advisable to wait until after the Quidditch trials before implementing this plan of sorts-"

"W - what?" I stammered, unsure I'd heard her correct.

"Well darling, we do have to give Malfoy the chance to prove himself. Wouldn't you just be plagued with guilt if we conducted the plan and he let you on the team from goodwill! Just think of how entirely unfair it would be to him."

I stared, open mouthed at her. A chance to bloody prove himself? _Prove _himself? _Malfoy_? Don't make me laugh! Besides, who was it getting in all of a flutter because of the injustice of the situation after the Great Hall? Declaring that she would kick a certain somebody's 'dainty little bottom' to the bottom of the Great Lake just earlier? Annie! And now, now she was wanting to give him the chance to _prove himself_?

"Annie, this is Malfoy we're talking about."

"Yes, I know darling."

"He's had nearly seven years to prove himself and he hasn't. Do you wanna know why? Because he _likes _being mean. He doesn't want to change!"

"That may be so darling, but, on this occasion I have to stick to my guns. I will not help you initiate this plan without some good reason to. I couldn't. As I've already said I'd -"

"'be plagued with guilt', yeah, I know."

"So, darling, do you agree?"

I did. And then I promptly left, snatching my new timetable (given to me earlier by the one and only Snape though for this meeting, he was without tartan pyjamas) and muttering heatedly under my breath about bloody peace lovers.

* * *

_No Malfoy, sorry folks. Next chapter, he will make his arrogant butty known, promise!_

_Don't really like this chapter much, but I'm just getting a little sick of rewriting it so it'll just have to do. Might return to edit it later. I'm just so sorry for the long wait. _

_but, how 'bout a review? Pretty, pretty please?_

_Xx_


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